S'more Than A Woman
It all began simple enough. I felt bad for the lady because she was getting no cooperation whatsoever from the other parents. This isn't that evil PTA lady who drags me into heinous acts, this is just another mom who really needed a little help. My friend Sissy (whose daughter also goes to St. Peter, Paul and Mary) and I helped her set up the book fair. It didn't go as smoothly as any of us would have hoped, but we finished the job.
In the midst of setting up tables and books, this lady put on a pathetic "help me" face and said, "Would you mind helping me make s'mores for Camping Night?"
Without much thought, I said "Sure." As I was leaving I asked how many s'mores she thought we would need for Friday.
"Well, I did get one other mom to help so probably only about a hundred or so."
Because saying "Are you fucking kidding me?" while in a school environment is not such a good idea, I just gave her a nod, and again said, "Sure." I talked to myself all the way home. "100? Holy shit! What have I done? Seriously, how many kids does this lady think are going to show up on a Friday night?"
Camping Night was supposed to be a time for the kids to come to school at night with their sleeping bags and tents, and listen to stories, eat s'mores, play with their friends as if they were really on a camping trip. Camping was the book fair theme, which is how it all came about. Having a real campfire to roast marshmallows was out of the question, unfortunately.
I knew I was in big trouble when the store was sold out of graham crackers. Seriously, what store sells out of graham crackers in March? I did think about the other mom who was making s'mores. "I bet that skank bought all of the graham crackers." It was an omen of which I should have been wary of, but you know me. I hightailed it to the next town over and ended up paying $3.50 per box. Not knowing how many boxes it takes to make 100 s'mores, I grabbed four and hoped for the best.
Again, because there were 100 needed, I thought going the "easy route" would be better than the "traditional route" which means instead of marshmallows and chocolate bars, I bought Nutella and Marshmallow Fluff. I bought four Fluffs and five Nutellas, each cost about three and a half dollars also. With tax and the jumbo-sized roll of foil, I was down about 50 bucks.
Recap: In the end, it took 3 jars of Fluff, 2 jars of Nutella, 4 boxes of graham crackers, 199 hand washes because sticky hands make me batty, 1 giant foil wall with 3 supporting foil beams, 1 Dollar Store crappy plastic plate I don't care if I ever see again, a couple of snapshots, lots of bad words, 2 kids who ditched me because it was finally nice outside and poof, ya got your 100 s'mores.
Could I own a square freakin' bowl? No. Why? I don't know. I guess all of those years of me flaking out when my friends had Tupperware parties could be to blame. Seriously, why would I ever need a square bowl? In 33 and a half years, I never have, until this escapade. You know how some guys can fix anything with duct tape? That's how I am with foil. Checkout this foil fort.
Initially I had them stacked on paper plates, which I forgot to add into the equation, but as I continued to stack, they began to slide. All of the melty goodness made for a leaning tower of s'mores. I cussed and adjusted them back on their plates a few times before I thought about building a foil fort.
These are the dirty bastard crackers that made me say bad words. Some of them were broken before they ever came out of the box. Others broke as I held them or took them from their packaging. The ones that really made me say bad words were the ones that appeared to be intact and broke as I spread the Fluff or Nutella on them. Bastard crackers!
Are you wondering how Camping Night went? I suppose it was okay. There were only about 80 kids who showed up, so each were happy to get an all you can eat s'mores buffet. I was hoping to drop the goodies and run but the lady had "just one more favor to ask" of me. "Would you read a story to the kids?"
I had been practicing saying the word "No" all day long, so I was ready. I stood tall, put my hands on my hips, looked that woman square in the eyes and said, "Sure."